


Soul Meets Body

by simplicitive



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-04
Updated: 2013-02-04
Packaged: 2017-11-28 03:38:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/669839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simplicitive/pseuds/simplicitive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spencer Reid was not keen on jewelry. Oneshot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Soul Meets Body

Spencer Reid was not keen on jewelry.

He rather disliked the entire idea of wearing pieces to “remind oneself” of things, especially in the case of so many marital arguments and misunderstandings being caused by tiny bands worth thousands of dollars. Speaking honestly, he’d probably forget to wear it and take it off constantly. It would get in the way. It would be a hassle.

And it’s not to say that such symbolism is rudimentary or even worthless, for much of recent advancement not only in humans but in technology as well is based upon the foundation of an understanding of symbols—we use symbols everywhere in daily life. Symbols aren’t necessarily bad, but vesting such high emotional meaning in a physical object (although sometimes humans do so unknowingly) seems silly at the thought.

But here he is, doing the same thing.

Relationships had never been his forte, regardless of whether they were romantic or friendship orientated—he was good at analyzing people, not so much bonding with them. He had lived his entire life in this way, so, naturally, his normal differed from others'. And it’s not to say that he’s incapable of feeling or loving anyone or anything—it’s just that he wasn’t so good at the dynamics. The chase, flirting, the strange Western ideals that seemed to be common knowledge to most seemed to have fallen out of his brain somewhere along the line.

Knowing this, he wasn’t sure how to advance the situation.

Spencer swallowed, licking his lips.

“I can’t accept this.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m going to lose it.”

“I just want you to have it. You don’t have to wear it.”

He drummed his fingers along the box, feeling the smoothness, the tiny patterns in the material, the fine line where the two edges met. He was silent.

“Do you not like it?”

“No, it’s not—“

“Then what is it?”

“I don’t know how to say thank you.”

It sounded even more childish in spoken word than he could have ever fathomed, not to mention the look on Hotch’s face when he had finally freed the sentence from his mouth proving that he had, in fact, sounded as stupid as he had imagined.

“Spencer—“

“Reid, please. Not here.”

“We’re in my office, the door is closed—I’m not trying to bring our relationship into the bureau, trust me, but I think I should be able to call you by your name without being too suspicious.”

“It’s not you I’m worried about, it’s that I’m certain these kinds of subtleties will leak out into the team and I’ll slip up and call you Aaron—“

“Because it’s my name.”

“No, because you’re our leader. Because you can call me Spencer and Morgan Derek and Garcia Penelope, but who has ever called you Aaron? We don’t even say Hotchner, we say Hotch, because that’s how we know you and—“

“Do you think we can keep this from the team?”

“Not for long, no, but until we’re ready.”

“And when will that be? A month? Two? Six, a year, maybe?”

“Fraternizing within the bureau isn’t “looked down upon,” it’s forbidden.”

“Then we can end this here.”

Spencer’s mouth opened to speak, but there was nothing but a faint crackle and some silence. Was Hotch breaking up with him?

“…I don’t want to.”

“Do you honestly think we can keep this secret for its entirety?”

“No, but I… I just don’t want to ruin this.”

Hotch sighed, thankful the lights were off and the entire building was near hollow, its souls having been emptied at least two hours ago save for theirs. The only contrast to the darkness came from the light in his office and a couple on in the halls that never seemed to go off. He wouldn’t necessarily call it comfort, but it was familiar. It was the closest he would ever seem to get to a vague sense of ease, save for Spencer.

Because Spencer, little did he know, was Hotch’s own personal struggle and relief.

“Hiding it isn’t necessarily detrimental, but the team is bound to suspect something.”

“I’m certain they already do.”

“So is it that bad to confirm their suspicions?”

“No, but…”

“Are you embarrassed, Spencer?”

“Don’t.”

“I’m not suggesting announcing it to the team or displaying affection, but I’m just asking you to stop trying to hide it so desperately because there is no point in trying to counteract the inevitable, especially when it’s something like this.”

“I’m dating my boss and you want me to just ease into telling everyone?”

“They probably already know. What are you so afraid of?”

“What am I so afraid of?” Spencer tossed the box onto Hotch’s desk, knocking over the name plate and tape dispenser, placing his hands down squarely and pushing over the medical records of the most recent unsub as he leaned in, his voice giving a tiny vibrato.

“I’m so afraid of this, this everything, this entire situation! Because this job, this thing, this faction of the bureau has been everything I have ever wanted and now I’m stuck in a position of not just losing everything I want to do with the rest of my life or the only real friends I’ve ever had, but of losing the person I’m in love with! Of course I’m afraid!”

“Spencer.”

“Don’t “Spencer” me, alright?”

“Are you alright?”

“Do I seem alright? I’m being harassed and verbally attacked into taking a piece of jewelry!”

“You just said you love me.”

Spencer licked his lips and parted his mouth, brown eyes searching Hotch’s equally confused face for some sort of answer, a nervous tick or a muscle movement that would indicate the lack of truth in his words, only to hear himself falter in a quiet, strained voice.

“What?”

“You said you love me.”

He swallowed.

“So?”

Spencer felt a rough jerk as his tie tightened around his neck, causing his head to lean back and his mouth to gape open, giving Hotch the perfect angle to take everything in. There was no battle of flesh and blood or struggle for dominance because there wasn’t anything demanded to be felt or understood, nothing being sought after—there was nothing but the feel of each other, the loveliness of existing, the addictive feel of something as simple as the sensation of each others’ presence in such closeness.

There was clattering and dropping and falling and Spencer’s hand gripped Hotch’s desk hard as he was pulled in and lifted, rising to meet Hotch, refusing to break contact and relentless with his greed, his fingers desperate for something to hold onto as they left the smoothness of the furniture and found the fabric of Hotch’s shirt, the warmth of his back through the cotton. There was a frenzy of lips and teeth and tongue and a slickness to it all that made Spencer open wider as his scalp screamed with each tug of his hair, as his eyes fluttered open and closed, as he was pushed and pulled and held onto.

He pulled away first, breathless and pink with blood, lips open and chest rising desperately for each bit of air he could manage into his lungs.

“Aaron,” he breathed.

“Spencer,” Hotch brushed his thumb along Spencer’s bottom lip, bruised from the kissing, “the only thing you need to know is that I will never stop loving my name on your mouth.”


End file.
